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DISCLAIMER: This site is in no way affiliated with the Monkees or personal relations thereof. All fan fiction and fan art is intended for entertainment purposes only and no defamation of character is intended whatsoever. To break it down one more time: It's all just for fun, folks.


"Pillow Time"



Title: Pillow Time
Author: Moondreams
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mike/Peter
Genre: Slash/Smut
Warnings: Language, sexuality
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Monkees and make no claim that this ever really happened. It is purely the result of an overactive imagination.
Summary: Mike’s having trouble sleeping and Micky thinks he may have the perfect solution...
Author’s Note: OK, so this is now my first attempt at a show-based fic and I’m actually more nervous about this one than my first! It’s just a bit of silliness and again includes a huge lack of Davy because I still can’t seem to write him a personality. They’re slightly OOC because it might take me a while to get them all down the way I want them. And also, I can't seem to write short fics either! Working on that. Again, any suggestions are greatly appreciated. :)

As Micky sat there slyly watching Mike come undone by Peter’s soothing hands, he smiled slightly to himself.
How do I get myself involved in these things? He thought to himself. Because you get yourself involved said another part of him. That was true enough. He had been playing for this since that night a few days back...

Micky had been sleeping badly the last couple of week thanks to a sprained ankle. Mike had told him time and time again not to slide down that banister, but would he listen? Not until he mis-judged a landing and fell in a crumpled heap on the floor, no. The pain killers helped but it seemed to throb more at night which tended to keep him awake. Being the sound sleeper he was, he’d never noticed before what a rotten sleeper Mike was. He’d toss and turn, mutter and mumble, get up , go to the bathroom, go back to sleep, rinse, repeat. It just made it more impossible for Micky to catch a break. Micky had wondered if it was nightmares, Mike would never mention it in the morning and seemed to be getting more and more tense and irritated as the days wore on. It could be stress, he does a lot for the band and a lot of the time he’s having to do it on his own. But this one night was different. Micky could actually make out words, parts of sentences. And it became clear from the slew of ‘yes’s and ‘oh god that’s it’s that these were not nightmares. Micky smiled to himself,
Well, that’s one way to relieve stress... But as he became more vocal and Micky became rather uncomfortably hot, he realised that Mike would probably appreciate a bit of privacy.

He hobbled over to the bathroom, trying not to disturb the writhing man. He couldn’t help but glance over and looked wide-eyed at his friend.
Wow, that’s some tent he’s pitching. Slightly disturbed by the thought, Micky shook his head and closed the bathroom door behind him. It did little to drown out the moans.

“Oh, that’s it, babe...right there. You feel so good...Mmm...Oh god, so good, Peter...”

There was a loud clatter from the bathroom before the door flew open. Micky stood there, staring dumbfounded at his room-mate. He looked almost cartoon like, as if his eyes were going to pop out of his head.
Did he just say-?

“Ah, fuck! PETER!” Mike cried as he found his release. Micky pulled a face, worried on Mike’s behalf that certain other residence of the house might hear him. As Mike began to slow and his erection subsided, Micky still looked at him but this time with wonder. A small, satisfied smile crept across Mike’s lips which infected Micky. But his smile soon turned into a conniving one. He sure wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, no sir. He had some serious scheming to do...


It was actually easier than he’d expected. As usual, Mike acted all nonchalant but tense
And now we know why... and Micky barely even had to wait 5 minutes the next morning before he could put his plan into action.

Davy had been seeing a girl, he was pretty sweet on her and had been spending hours in the downstairs bathroom preening himself. Because of this, Peter had asked to use Mike and Micky’s bathroom on this particular morning. Conveniently ‘forgetting’ the occupancy of their bathroom, when Mike advised Micky he was having a shower, Micky merely gave an OK. From the downstairs couch, he listened intently for the outcome of his little bit of mischief making.
OK, there goes the bathroom door, he’s inside. A pause. Still pausing...And still pausing, geez Mike getting a good enough look in there? Ah, there we go...

“Oh god, I’m so sorry Peter!” The door slammed as Mike bustled out of the bathroom, also slamming the bedroom door shut, trying to keep as much distance between himself and the incident as possible. He started pacing up and down, fiddling with his hat which he now held in his hands. Micky had to stifle a laugh at how flushed he was.

“What’s wrong, Mike?”

“Uh, it’s- Peter was in there.”

“Oh, right!” He said, dramatically clicking his fingers. “He said something about that, sorry man.”

“Naw...s’okay.” He said, slightly in a daze.
Step One complete, now onto something a little more hands on.

A day or so later, practice had to be cut short as Davy was off again with the same girl (some kind of record, they were sure) and Mike was trying to stretch out a knot in his back.

“What you need is a massage.” Mike contemplated Micky’s comment for a moment. It wasn’t a bad idea, Micky actually gave very good massages, he had very gentle hands.

“Sure, guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Micky briefly flashed one of those wicked smiles before he yelled.

“Yo, Pete. Get in here.” Mike’s eyes flew open and he began to get all flustered again.

“But. No, I thought you meant- I thought you were gonna do it!”

“With this foot?”

“You don’t massage with your feet, what’s that gotta do with anything?!”

“I mean, I can’t stand over you. Nah, Peter’s great. Soft but firm.” And he winked at Mike which made him blush even further.

“You yelled, Mick?”

“Mike here needs to loosen up, how about one of your grade-A back massages?”

“You know what, it feels better already, there’s really no-“ But Peter had already grabbed his shoulders and pulled him onto the couch. Mike was slightly taken aback by his assertive behaviour but everything went out of his mind as his fingers went to work.
Man, Micky was right. He is firm...And he’s not the only one. Mike had become all too aware of the growing bulge in his pants. Peter really knew what he was doing but was clueless on the deeper effect it was having on Mike. How he’d dreamt of those hands on his body, roaming, exploring. He tried crossing his legs subtly but the tightening sensation just made it worse. He looked up to see if Micky was watching. He was but Mike couldn’t tell as he apparently had his nose stuck in a comic book. But Micky knew all too well what was happening. And that’s when he wondered how he got himself into these things.

“That good?” Peter asked innocently as not so innocent thoughts coursed through Mike’s mind. Instead of a reply, he uttered a ragged moan, instantly cursing himself the minute it had escaped. Unknown to Mike, Peter smiled lightly and began to massage more intensely. But before Mike risked further incriminating exclamations, he quickly stood up, shocking Peter back. Mike made sure to keep his back to Peter, so as not to reveal just how much he was enjoying the massage.

“I...uh. Think I’ll have a shower. Again.” He blurted, before semi-jogging to the bathroom. Both Peter and Micky intently watched this bizarre display. When Peter looked to Micky for some sort of explanation, all he received was a shrug. But inside, Micky was gleefully clapping.
I knew it! Well done Dolenz old boy. It’s so obvious, how did we never see it...Still, might be worth making absolutely sure...


Later that evening, Davy still wasn’t back and no-one felt like practicing any more so they just got on with their own thing. Micky sat half watching the TV, Mike was trying to perfect a song he’d written on the guitar and Peter had gone down to the beach. After a few hours of virtual silence, Micky became restless.

“Whose turn is it to cook tonight?”

“Uh, Peter’s I think.” Mike said distractedly. Micky scrunched up his nose. Peter’s heart was in the right place but the guy really didn’t know the first thing about what made a good meal.

“Hm. Think I just lost my appetite.” Mike chuckled, still plucking at the strings. Micky moved over to the dining table so he was sat closer to Mike, listening to him work. After a few more moments, Mike broke the silence.

“Davy do the dishes?” Micky looked up from his chair, into the sink seeing last night’s dirty dishes still sat there.


“Course not. That girl’s more trouble than she’s worth I tell ya. She got him all over the place.” He left the guitar where he was and resigned himself to cleaning the dishes himself. No doubt, Peter would be back soon.

And right on cue, in walked Peter from the beach. As Mike turned to greet him, the words hitched in his throat.
Woah. Peter’s hair was still wet from the swim, making his bangs stick to his forehead. Like they do when we’re- No, dammit, Nesmith, not now. His shirt was draped casually over his shoulder showing off his toned body which glistened slightly from the sea water. Just like it does- Ah, stop already! And he was wearing those oh-so-revealing red shorts. Mike realised he was staring, trying to memorise every part of that body. He quickly turned his attention to the dishes and began to take his frustrations out on them instead. God, you’re sick, you know that? Thinking of Peter that way? What would he think of me? He’d hate me, that’s what. Want to leave the band. He can’t leave...


“Hm?” Peter’s voice quickly shook him out of his thoughts.

“I said, did you want a hand with those?”

“No.” He answered, curtly. He realised maybe a little too curt, he shouldn’t take his frustrations out on Peter, it’s not his fault he’s so damn hot. “I’m good, thanks Pete.” Peter shrugged and then noticed Micky’s none too subtle grin.
He’s been doing that a lot lately... Peter thought to himself. Micky noticed he’d been caught and tried to change into a more neutral look.

“Hey, Pete? Could you pass me the cereal, man?”

“For dinner, Mick?” Mike asked, dubiously.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna be too full for my peach and pork stew tonight.” Peter added with a tinge of hurt. Micky tried to stop himself from scrunching his nose again.

“Well, uh, y’know these painkillers are kinda messin’ up my appetite. I’m not really up for a big meal, just fancy some cereal is all.”

“Oh. Well, if you’re sure...”

“I’m sure. Leave more for you and Mike.” Peter smiled brightly while Mike shot Micky a brief ‘thanks a lot’ look. “So, about that cereal...”

“Oh, right! Sorry Mike, if I can just-“ The cereal was on the cupboard up to Mike’s right and Peter couldn’t quite reach it without squeezing between Mike and the table. At the sudden contact, Mike stopped all movement entirely. He clutched the plate he was holding with such intensity, in the back of his mind he marvelled at how it didn’t crack. The moment seemed to go on forever, Peter pressed firmly against Mike, locking together perfectly. Oh, how he wished he could just lean back a little...But suddenly, the pressure ceased and Peter handed the cereal to Micky.
Christ, thank god for that.


Oh, please god no...

“What’s up, Mick? That not the right one?”

“I was all set up Cornflakes.” Micky replied, looking at Peter with those big almond eyes and an exaggerated pout. Peter chuckled lightly. How could he say no to that? Once again, Peter pressed against him but Mike had prepared himself somewhat this time, detaching himself from his surroundings.
Just doin’ the dishes. Dirty dishes. No-one else here. Wish Davy would start pulling his weight around here, that girl is causing us a lot of HOLY SHIT! Mike was jerked out of his thoughts as Peter continued with his struggle to reach the Cornflakes. It was slightly further back than the other one, just out of his reach so he was having to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet to try and grasp it. The bouncing resulted in Peter rubbing his crotch roughly against Mike’s backside. Up and down, up and down. Through the thin layers of fabric they were both wearing, Mike felt...everything. His hands left the plates, deciding instead to grip the edge of the sink, bracing so tight his knuckles turned white. He scrunched his eyes closed tight, trying to maintain some semblance of control but his raging hard on deceived him. He very gently started to rub himself against the basin in time with Peter’s grinding motion, trying to create some friction to ease the throbbing. The heat from the sun still radiated off of Peter and Mike could smell the rays and lotion on his body. It was intoxicating. A frustrated moan escaped Peter’s lips, instinctively causing Mike to groan in restrained pleasure. In that second, his hand lost its grip on the sink, smashing a clean plate on the floor. He somehow managed to compose himself, grabbing the cereal box which was just within his reach, slamming it shakily on the table before making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Peter turned to face Micky, blowing the bangs out of his face in a manner that conveyed exhaustion, looking slightly flushed himself. Micky just poured his Cornflakes as if nothing happened. But his thoughts were on overdrive.
Oh, it is so on.


The night had continued much the same as the afternoon, everyone keeping to themselves. Mike went to bed earlier than usual and Peter followed not long after. Never one to enjoy his own company, Micky decided to turn in once he thought the others might be asleep.

He lay in his bed, wide awake as usual, waiting. He looked over at his clock and sighed.
Man, it’s been an hour. Maybe he deserves more credit than I give him. Could have done with a storm tonight, that would’ve done it for sure. Just as Micky finished the thought however, there was the sound he’d been waiting for. The door knob turning. Micky watched Peter as he delicately made his way over to his bed.

“What’s up, Pete?” Micky half whispered but it still made Peter jump.

“Oh! Uh...it’s just...Davy isn’t back yet and...uh...it’s really quiet down there. I can usually hear him breathing and it, uh...helps me sleep. I like noise. I, uh-“ Peter knew what he wanted to ask but was too embarrassed. Thankfully, Micky knew his friend well enough to have been counting on this happening.

“You wanna sleep up here, Peter?” The blond haired man broke into a grateful grin and nodded. As Micky began to get out of bed, Peter stopped him.

“Oh no, it’s OK. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll go sleep downstairs. You should be good up here, Mike’s pretty uh, vocal when it comes to sleep.” He quickly turned before that smirk appeared again and left the two of them in peace.


Micky was right, Peter had found it easy to get to sleep with Mike’s soft mutterings. But now Peter began to stir as Mike went through the all too familiar dream process.

“Mm...Peter...” Peter, still half asleep, turned on his side to face Mike’s bed.

“Mm?” When Mike didn’t reply, Peter decided to go over and see what was wrong. He stood by the side of his bed, eyes half closed.

“What Mike?”

“You feel so good...that’s it, right there...ahhh.” Peter woke up rather quickly, trying to focus on Mike in the dark. He noticed that he’d managed to kick the covers most of the way off the bed and had done away with his pyjama top and
What the-!? Peter’s eyes quickly diverted to some random spot on the wall but they wouldn’t stay put, going back to the enormous hard on Mike was sporting. Mike spoke again.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.”

Peter closed his mouth, not even aware it had been open. Suddenly, it dawned on him.
He’s thinking about me. I’m doing this to him. Micky, you little- Mike started to squirm more, stopping Peter mid-thought. How could he be mad at Micky? He knew how he felt about Mike, it had come up in a rather awkward conversation a few months back.

Quietly, he sat on the edge of Mike’s bed, still staring at this Texan beauty. His hands ever so gently brushed the ebony hair from his face, a sweat had started to build on his forehead. His hand moved down to those full lips which had stopped moving for the moment. He brushed them lightly, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted to touch those lips with his own. He lowered his head, lingering for a bit, savouring the moment.



“What are you doing?” Peter’s eyes widened. He pulled back a bit to see Mike staring at him, now wide awake and looking rather startled. They both stayed that way for several moments, faces still very close together.

“I was, uh...gonna kiss you. Actually.” Peter saw no point in lying, this conversation had to happen sometime. Mike continued to stare at him, unblinking.


“Well, cos I thought you wanted me to. Sure sounded like it.” Mike wasn’t sure how to respond, he knew he’d been busted. He was more reeling from the fact that Peter was actually prepared to kiss him.

“But, why would you
want to kiss me?” Peter looked at him totally bewildered.

“And I thought I was the dummy. Michael, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you. But I NEVER would have expected you to feel the same way. I haven’t exactly been subtle about it, y’know.”

“No way, man. You never gave any-“

“The cereal.”

Mike paused, frowning slightly. “The what?”

“The cereal , today. There was nothing blocking the way, Michael. I could easily have gone past you and picked it up. But god. I just wanted to feel that ass.” Mike’s cock twitched suddenly as his heart started beating faster.
He’s right. Why hadn’t I noticed that? “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to think how you’d react.”

Peter’s eyes flashed with an intensity that made Mike’s stomach flip over. He leaned in closer to Mike’s face, those eyes intermittently darting between his eyes and his lips.

“Tell me now.”

Mike licked his lips, subconsciously. “Peter...” Peter hummed, seductively. “I want to kiss you-“ Before the words were barely out of his mouth, Peter had crashed his lips against his. Mike moaned against him as Peter’s tongue slipped past his lips and explored Mike’s mouth. There was no resistance. Peter pulled back slowly with Mike leaning forward to try and keep it going. Peter responded with a quick smile, pinning Mike back down to the bed.

“Y’know. In the dream, there’s a little more than kissing.”

“Oh, I was hoping you were gonna say that.” And then Peter’s lips were on his again, fiercely trying to devour the man below him. They kissed with such force that it bruised. Mike fumbled with Peter’s top, pulling it over his head. He shook the hair out of his eyes, leaning in for another kiss. Mike’s hand began to trail along the bare back as he started to kiss along Peter’s neck. One of Peter’s hands left Mike’s shoulder and began to make its way down his chest, stopping to give the nipples some attention. Mike’s breathing caught slightly and he grinned up at Peter. His hand travelled further until it reached Mike’s waistband. Quickly slipping his hand inside, he grasped the hard cock and started stroking it.

The move forced Mike to stop the kiss. “Uhh, god...Peter. Faster.” Peter picked up his pace a little, moving his fingers over the head to spread around the pre-cum. He then moved his mouth to Mike’s nipples to allow him to make more of those wonderful noises. Mike began arching his back, thrusting into Peter’s hand, his whole body sensitive to every little touch. Peter pumping him mercilessly, flicking his tongue over his nipples, even his hair gently brushing against his chest was enough to make him explode. Then it all stopped. Mike’s eyes flew open, he thought he’d die if he didn’t get a release soon.

Peter stared back at him, knowing how close he was. Not like this. He wanted to make this special, not just a quick handjob and then it’s over. He moved to the foot of the bed, looking at Mike like he was some sort of prey. Without warning, Peter took Mike’s cock into his mouth, sucking right down to the root.

“Holy fucking shit!” Mike practically sobbed. Peter made sure to cover the entire thing with saliva, while relishing the whimpers that escaped Mike’s lips as he dipped his tongue in the slit and flicked it over the head. He pulled away and looked back at Mike, waiting to get his attention which he promptly got.

Without breaking eye contact, Peter knelt back on the bed and swung his leg over Mike’s slim body so he was straddling him. Mike’s lust was beginning to make him lose focus. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked, trying so hard not to come simply from the thought of what was about to happen. Peter just nodded, before leaning down for another kiss, tender and passionate as he lined himself up with Mike’s cock and thrust down.

They both cried out at the same time. Mike had never felt anything like it. It was so tight, so
hot. He had the overwhelming urge to just fuck Peter ruthlessly but instead grabbed the sheets below him, massive handfuls of it. Peter had never felt anything like it either. It was so big! He began to worry that he’d made a big mistake and was too scared to move. Mike noticed his hesitancy and released the sheets, instead gripping Peter’s hips, massaging him gently, soothingly.

“Relax. I want you to enjoy this.” Peter focused on those eyes, on the circling motions Mike was making on his hips and he began to loosen up . The stinging subsided and Peter began to rock slowly backward and forward. Mike slipped out of himself at that moment, head falling back on the pillow. He started to use his hands as an anchor as he thrust up into that tight ass.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, Peter. So good.” The words started to make Peter unravel, seeing Mike so close to the edge. Peter rolled his head back, starting to lose any rhythm, just needing to find that release and give Mike his own.

Mike could see a slight frown crease Peter’s forehead and he knew that he was so close but needed that final push over the edge. He gripped his hips even harder and thrust deep into Peter, hitting a spot Peter never knew existed. He saw stars as his whole world began to collapse around him.

“Oh, FUCK! What the- oh my god. That’s it Michael, that’s it. Fuck me. More! Harder, I want that cock.” Mike had never heard Peter talk like this and it drove him wild. He thrust again, dangerously close but wanting to hold out until Peter was completely fulfilled. He let out another choked cry and began to move his hand urgently up and down his own cock. Mike swiftly brushed the hand away and replaced it with his own, keeping the strokes in a vague rhythm with his thrusts. Peter knew that was it, he was done. His final release came out as a ragged moan that resembled Mike’s name but was quickly smothered by Peter urgently crushing his lips to Mike’s giving it everything he had left.

The small gesture was enough to give Mike his own explosive orgasm. He thrust a few more times, grabbing tightly to Peter’s ass to keep him from falling. As Mike settled down, Peter slumped on top of him and they stayed that way for a few minutes, their breathing gradually regulating itself. Peter used the last of his energy to slip off of Mike’s now limp cock and rolled onto his side so they were facing each other.

For a while they just stared into each other’s eyes, not needing to say anything. Peter was the one who broke the silence.

“Was that how you dreamt it?”

“Not quite.” Peter looked at him curiously. “We never actually got round to the sex in my dream.” Peter’s look turned into one of horror.

“Oh, Michael. I didn’t know. I just thought- You should have said something!”

“You kiddin’ me?! It would have only been a matter of time. Besides, I find previews can ruin a good show. I got to experience this first hand and it was quite a ride, shotgun.” Peter relaxed and smiled that bright smile of his. Mike sighed, completely satisfied for the first night in weeks. Peter gave Mike an Eskimo kiss, encouraging Mike to give him a small kiss on the nose.

“Thank you, Peter.”

“Any time. And I mean, any time.” Peter said with a weary smile before trying unsuccessfully trying to cover a yawn.

“Turn over.” Peter did so and Mike leant into him, wrapping his long arms around his friend, his lover. “Goodnight, babe.”


Mike woke early, smiling to himself as he saw the angelic figure still in his arms. He moved slowly and quietly so as not to disturb him. Creeping over to the door, he opened it cursing the creaking it made. Suddenly, a figure fell in a crumpled heap at his feet.

It was Micky. Still in his PJ’s, he drowsily looked up at Mike and then at his surroundings. He froze when he realised what had happened. He quickly picked himself up, feigning irritation and dusting himself off.

“Geez, don’t you knock!?” He said. Before Mike could question why he had seemingly been sat outside their door all night, he high-tailed it down the stairs.

“Mick!” Micky knew, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t ignore that tone. He sheepishly looked up at Mike who was now out of the room. But instead of the stream of abuse he expected, he just got a look. A look that Micky knew he’d done good. He smiled a genuine smile this time, no ulterior motives and nodded his head in understanding. With that, Mike turned back into the bedroom to find Peter out of bed.

“Micky’s up?”

“Yeah, he’s just-“ Before Mike could finish, Peter had bustled past him, practically skipping down the stairs. Before Micky even had a chance to turn around, Peter caught him from behind with a massive bear hug. Micky laughed and patted his arm.

"You're welcome, Peter." And with that, Peter went back upstairs to start a new day, a new new life, a new love.